Price of victory: Companion pieces
by Weltenmeer
Summary: Companion pieces to my main story "Price of victory". A collection of stories happening around the main characters.
1. Boot Camp 01

AN: Hello, everyone who is interested in reading more about the world of "Price of victory", the main fic I'm writing. In this companion pieces fic I will post stories that happen around Jo and Joker, but don't involve them directly, and stories that don't fit chronologically into the story line. There will be no particular order or plan for these stories, I will simply post what I have. But if a chapter in here has a corresponding chapter within the main story, I will put in a notification. Reading the companion pieces is not necessary for understanding the main story!

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 **Notification: This chapter has a corresponding chapter within "Price of victory" called "116: Adult responsibilities".**

Time: Year 2188, 1.5 years after the end of the Reaper War, takes place at the same time as the corresponding chapter in the main story.

Place: Planet Chrysalis, planetside and on the ICA station.

Characters: James Vega, friends and OCs.

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James could honestly say that when he first joined the Alliance at the age of eighteen, he'd had no idea how much he would come to enjoy teaching. And yet here he was. Not only did he have 92 recruits in his branch at the Academy, he now also had 1620 actors to torture and prepare. Granted, he had to share those actors with Garrus and Gilla O'Ran. The three of them, the leaders of Survival, Battle and Infiltration branches respectively, had fought all the other instructors for this right.

The plan was that the actors would be split in groups according to their species. James would take charge of the human actors. Jo had insisted that every single actor portraying a military person – be it her own boot camp buddies from the first vid or dead bodies on the battlefields from the last vid – needed to take part in this training. Therefore, the humans made up the most numerous group among the actors, counting 520 people. Garrus was to train the second largest group: the turian actors. Gilla, having been a Commando during the war, took care of the asari. The smaller groups – quarians, krogans and salarians – were entrusted to advanced recruits from the academy who had both Battle and Leadership specialisations. The smallest group consisted of 58 people from all the remaining species of the known galaxy. These would either portray individual fighters on the battlefield, like the elcor or geth, or represent species without notable military structures within the vids' story line, like the vorcha, hanar, drell and others. These actors simply needed to learn now to fight properly. All together there were eight different groups to be trained in distinctly different ways.

The studio didn't volunteer the information about which actor was assigned to which role, but it was easy for James to find out that the man who was to play **him** ended up being among those who were about to enter this actor boot camp. Obviously, that guy wasn't going to get as much screen time as, say, the one who was to play Garrus, or the actress portraying Tali. But he still counted as 'lead team' member and those actors were too busy even now shooting non-battle scenes with Marina Kruglova. Nevertheless, Valentino Mendez was here. His dossier said: voluntarily. Of course, what better way was there to prepare for a role than to observe your subject in close proximity? James respected the actor's dedication.

The trickiest part of this crazy endeavor was the vid crew recording everything and making it into a live reality show. Multistars had rented a large training complex on Chrysalis and the vid crew wired it completely before the actors arrived, leaving no blind spots. The leader of the vid team, a salarian guy named Kiras Midae, was in charge of making this training course a popular show, so he got the right to record everything and to edit the footage in any way he saw fit. James had to accept that, since he wasn't a showman in any way. This was Kiras' domain and they all agreed to work together. Still, James breathed easier after Dex infiltrated the camera system used by the vid crew and could now keep a constant eye on everything.

The training complex had a special separate building, where all the instructors could meet and discuss business. Garrus and James kept calling it War Room out of habit from the Normandy days. Kiras and his people had their own headquarters there, too. They put up over fifty screens there and monitored everything that their cameras caught – even the discussions in the staff's War Room. Those discussions and commentary made by people who had served on the Normandy and now worked directly with Commander Moreau would be the most interesting part of the reality show, Kiras promised them.

Each of the eight actor groups was to occupy a private set of buildings within one large training complex. They had their own dorms, training facilities and even small plazas. Each group was to be kept separated from the others for almost the entire three months.

James and Jo hadn't been to the same boot camp back on Earth, but most practices were the same throughout the entire Systems Alliance: The actors were divided into groups. Each group got a designation, and James chose theirs to be colours, just like in Jo's case all those years ago. Because he had so many people, he made the groups 40 people strong, even though the standard was 20-30 recruits in a group. Each team had their own drill instructors to train them. One team would stay together in one room. Men and women would have separate bathrooms and showers, but sleep in the same dorm. One week into the training a team leader would be selected by the instructors. That person would get a badge and be held responsible for the team's progress. If the team leader couldn't cope, the badge could change hands. Three weeks into the training the teams would be pitted against each other in simulated battles.

For the roles of drill instructors he chose recruits from his own and Garrus' branches at the ICA: twenty six humans, two for each team. His own little joke was to choose all girls, the smaller and daintier – the better. Each of those petite cuties – none below N2 – could single-handedly destroy this entire group of actors without breaking a sweat. They had survived everything he'd thrown at them so far and earned his personal respect, had stood their ground in hand-to-hand against all their fellow ICA recruits and even some Senior Instructors. They had all been total badasses on the battlefield before even joining the Academy – and now they were extremely efficient, intelligent and resourceful killing machines. But because of their looks and sizes people often didn't see them coming. James knew that these girls would tear apart all the expectations the actors had.

The day the actors arrived, James and everyone else from the Academy were prepared for anything. He observed with a barely hidden smile as actors, many of whom had arrived in flashy cars, had to enter the premises at the entrance assigned to their species and submit their luggage for inspection. His amusement grew – and Kiras cackled somewhere nearby – as the throng of human actors got more and more agitated because all their electronic communication devices were being confiscated, along with an endless amount of cosmetics, hair products and non-regulation clothes. _Of course_ these people were prepared to suffer for their art. _Of course_ they were willing to go the distance for a chance to be a part of The Shepard Epic. But they still would have liked to keep their creature comforts.

All the non-human actors were now out of his reach. Only Kiras had his fingers on everything that was going on. James' job was to train the humans, but first he had to officially greet them. Just like in real Alliance boot camps back on Earth about a decade ago, upon arrival and after inspection the new recruits were given a standard grey uniform and sent to find their beds and lockers in their designated dorms. The bunks, the bedding, the hygiene articles, their clothes, shoes and even underwear were all standard issue Alliance equipment, specially procured and delivered only days before.

"Look at their faces!" Kiras laughed gleefully, watching the screens in his HQ. James and Gilla were here with the vid team for the time being. Garrus and others were already off on some business or other.

"Your girls look sourer than my girls," Gilla noted to James. "Come to think of it, some of your guys look even sourer than that."

"Your girls can live longer without their favourite brand of shampoo before their scalps lose their shapes and shine. According to some human women, cheap shampoo can really damage their hair," James explained knowledgeably. He didn't mention that he'd only learned such details from girls during his own time in a boot camp. "I have a cure for that sourness, trust me."

"Do tell," Gilla looked up at him with almost sadistic interest.

"If anyone complains, I'll suggest they shave their heads. Human military used to do that back in the day, you know. Every recruit would have been shaved upon entering the boot camp."

Gilla exhaled, her mouth gaping open.

"Barbaric," she whispered, eyes wide with morbid fascination. "How beautifully malicious. I'll have to tell all my friends."

"Several hundred years back human military had to do that for a number of reasons, one of which had been lice. Tiny insects living in your hair. Nasty buggers, they jump from one person to another. So, no hair - no lice. Since that's no longer an issue these days, we just keep our hair out of the way."

This conversation was, of course, also being recorded. Kiras had asked James and the others to provide as much trivia about their species' military history for the cameras as possible. Gilla's fascination, however, was hardly a product of acting. This asari was funny and cruel and ruthless and tough, fitting in at the Academy just fine. She had a strong presence and, considering her specialization, had no problem ignoring the cameras and just being herself. James had nothing but respect for her, especially since he regularly found her recruits infiltrating his lessons, pretending to be part of his class. Their assignment was to stay unnoticed as long as possible. These days James acquired a habit of quickly counting his recruits before starting a class, just to weed out anyone who didn't really belong there. Still, even that didn't always work, and Gilla's Infiltration lessons had a lot to do with that.

James' assistant on this show, a young woman named Adelaide McNair, an N2, came in and reported that it was nearly time to greet the actors on the Human Plaza, as Kiras had named it for the viewers.

"How is it going, Kiras?" James asked the hyperactive salarian.

"Fantastic. The number of live viewers grows steadily. We are now at seventeen billion galaxy-wide. Nothing of interest has even happened yet! I expect the number to quadruple by tomorrow mid-morning."

"Good. Get ready. I'm off to meet my bunch," he lightly clapped the salarian on the shoulder, winked at Gilla and headed towards the back yard of the human barracks. Adelaide and other Ns from the Academy were directing the actors to their places: the teams had to form squares, standing in neat and straight lines. For non-military people even that was a challenge at first.

When everyone was in the correct spot, the Ns quickly took their own place in a line facing the recruits. James smoothed down his dress blacks. He was technically a part of the Ascension Fleet, who wore violet tint on their dark grey uniforms. However, James considered himself a part of the Academy, and their parade uniform was black with white and red tints, just like the rest of their clothes. He proudly wore his Staff Commander stars on his collar and all his medals on his chest. Today was the day to impress. Of course, the high rank and the smart uniform didn't go quite well with his Mohawk, but James didn't care. A few seconds after complete silence fell over the little plaza he stepped from the building and walked up to face his new recruits. The sun shone into their eyes, not his – which had been his full intention when he planned this ceremony.

The Ns saluted as one when he approached. James had instructed them to show off their perfect manners for the newbies, and they were doing a marvelous job. He stopped, facing the actors, and measured them with a heavy glance. He saw several spooked faces, some unhappy, some scared, and quite a few flirty ones.

"Recruits," he began and his voice carried firmly across the yard. "For those who don't know me yet, I am Staff Commander James Vega, Senior Instructor of the Survival branch at the Intergalactic Cooperation Academy. From now on you will simply refer to me as Staff. Behind me is a group of ICA recruits ranking between N2 and N4 who will be overseeing your training. You are to obey their orders as if they came directly from me. You will address each of them simply as N."

He watched the actors, who were – at least in theory – supposed to be good at taking directions and following them exactly.

"This is your first day in the training camp, which will make you Marines of the human armed forces. This is not play pretend. You will be real Marines, with official military numbers, but retired from active duty, unless you decide to re-enlist in the future. The life of each Alliance recruit has always begun with an oath to the Corps and the Human Government. After that you belong to me. My voice will remain with you for the duration of this course and it will replace your own thoughts and wishes. Now, remember: due to the unusual circumstances of this situation you will not be permitted any communication with the outside world for the next three months. Consider it carefully. If you have anything on the outside that could interrupt your training, like a baby on the way or a father on his death bed, then turn around and leave now. There will be no judgement. This is your only chance to walk away."

He paused to give the actors some time to consider. After studying their dossiers he knew that nobody had any special circumstances as described, but he still had to give them a chance to walk away, as was the standard procedure. Just like he'd assumed, every actor stayed in place.

"Right, then. You will say your oath now. It goes like this: starting with the first row and going back in an S-line, each of you will first state your full **real** name. Then you will speak together the words that you can see on the screen on the wall behind me. After this is concluded, you will be official recruits at this facility. Proceed," he pointed at the first person in the first row. They obeyed and followed his instructions, swearing an oath of loyalty to human military forces and to the government. The text was a regular military oath and ended with the words "So God help me."

"Very well. Now listen closely and remember. For the next three months I own your hides in more senses than you yet realise. If you think that you can fake your way through this and then go back to your cozy life as if nothing was the matter, I assure you, it is not so. Each of you has a contract with Multistars. That obliges you to take part in this training. However, not all of you will make it to the end. Multistars agreed to one condition. From now on I hold each of your contracts in my hands. Everyone who doesn't make it through the training will be let go and their contract with the studio will be terminated." James enjoyed the shocked whispers that rose above the lines of people. "Furthermore, your success in this facility will have direct impact on the role you'll be playing in the upcoming vids. You each have tried for some role and most have already been assigned something specific, but that is all going to change. It's all in my hands now. The better you do in training, the larger role you will get in the vid. Some of you might even get to say a line. Multistars has agreed to it to add a little twist and give you better motivation. I promise you, the next three months will be extremely difficult. This is your chance to show the world what kind of people you are and if you love your job as much as I love mine."

He paused once again, letting the news sink in and letting Kiras catch their faces on cameras for the viewers. It was somewhat strange to constantly keep Kiras and his demands in mind, but James knew he would get used to it soon.

"Your successes and failures will be translated into points. Your scores will always be visible on a screen right inside the barracks. Ns and I will evaluate each of you regularly and decide who will have to leave the camp. Admittedly, this system was implemented to make it easier for the viewers to keep up with the show. Separately from that there will be a viewer popularity score, which people from Multistars will be keeping out there in the civilian world. I don't give a rat's ass how cute your eyelashes are or how chiseled your manly jaw is. Viewer popularity will have zero effect on my decision if I decide to toss you out. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Staff," the actors spoke up, deflated.

"Now, to your orientation. There are thirteen teams, each assigned a colour. You are wearing a chevron of your team's colour on your chests. Remember where you belong and be ready to say your military number and your team's name even if woken up in the middle of the night. Each team will be supervised by two Ns, who will stay with you for the duration. They will tell you and show you everything you need to know about addressing your superiors, about proper conduct and regulations, about legalities of the military service, about personal hygiene and the proper way to keep your belongings in perfect condition. Heed their words, because starting tomorrow, every morning there will be an inspection, most by the Ns and one lucky team – personally by me. Ns will explain to you what that entails and how to pass it. Failed inspections will have severe consequences."

James saw that their faces were beginning to set into cold masks. The reality of being captured and locked up at the mercy of a hardass leader was starting to sink in.

"The first week of your training will be pure physical exercise and theoretical courses on armour, weapons and safety regulations. In your second week you will be given your first weapons and sets of armour. However, any ammunition you will get within these walls will be non-lethal. At no point will you have access to live ammo. If you follow instructions, then nobody should get killed or injured. I rely on your common sense to stay safe. However, this is the last time that I'm speaking to you like you are individual people. Of course, a stupid Marine is a dead Marine. You have to be smart. But first and foremost you need to remember that you are now one body, moving together. Individual thought is not encouraged. Your goal is to follow orders. Nothing else matters. Certain things you will have to repeat over and over until you can do them in your sleep. You will have to do brainless tasks over and over, until you're blue in the face. You will have to do seemingly pointless things, frustrating things, unpleasant things. Of course, there is always method behind the madness, but information is on a need to know basis. Grunts like you do not need to know, get used to that. All you have to do is follow orders. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Staff." The chorus sounded resigned.

"And if you think that Commander Moreau didn't have to do stupid shit like that, then, by all means, look at the screen. Recognise anyone?"

The screen behind him started playing a vid. It showed a security camera footage from another boot camp a long time ago. James had personally begged Jo's permission to show this to the public. On screen a group of twenty Marine recruits was running their rounds along the paved pathways crisscrossing a standard training facility. A drill instructor was watching them, giving them the rhythm and verbally abusing the ones falling behind. Running first, easily and steadily, nearly six meters ahead of the runner-up, was a small, skinny figure with light, chin-long hair tied in a ponytail in the back. The group had to come pretty close to the camera for the viewers to finally recognize that the skinny figure was actually a girl. She carried herself like a man, moved like a man and managed to hide her feminine curves under the standard uniform so well that her gender was barely discernible at a certain distance.

"Oh my god!" Gasps of shock and awe came from the actors.

"That's really Commander Shepard!"

"There's footage of her boot camp days? That's worth billions!"

James smiled. He already had to listen to Kiras' breathless tirade of gratitude for providing the show with such rare and desirable vid material. The actors were suitably impressed. Indeed, the girl on the screen was Johanna Shepard, age eighteen, running ahead, separately from her fellow recruits.

"Next vid shows you two weeks later, after the Commander became the squad leader," James said and the vid on the screen changed. It was still the same running exercise along the same pathways, the same squad and the same drill instructor barking at them. However, this time there was a very tall, black-skinned young man in the lead. The boyish figure of Jo Shepard became visible at the very end of a long-stretched line of runners. She wasn't running, she simply walked next to the very last recruit. That one, a cute, curvaceous, dark-haired girl, seemed to be completely out of breath, falling far behind, barely able to even walk. Everyone observed how Jo leaned closer to the girl and spoke softly. Her words couldn't be heard, but the girl shied away with horror in her face, stumbled and fell. Jo stopped next to her and said something else. The girl on the ground whimpered. The drill instructor stopped barking orders and came closer. The dark haired girl looked over at him with plea in her eyes, but he simply watched, interested in the outcome. Jo lifted her foot and kicked the other girl in the hip, unexpectedly and painfully.

All actors fell very silent. Kiras' cameras were catching the horror in their faces as they watched Jo kick her fellow recruit until the other girl finally found the strength to get up and run again – even if only to get away from Jo. After a little while she caught up with the second-last runner and passed him. Now he was the last one – if one didn't count Jo, who jogged up to the unfortunate guy and said something to him. The young man, wisened up by what had just happened with the girl, clenched his teeth, wiped his deathly pale face and ran. Faster. As fast as a person can when death is breathing down their neck.

"Would you like to know what she's saying to those guys?" James asked the actors. "What it is that sends them running away from her like that?"

There were nods from many shocked faces.

"It's the same thing she said to me when she started training me. 'I will kill you myself if you don't shape up.'"

The collective gulp was loud in the silence.

"Now, have a look at this final vid, taken towards the end of her time at the boot camp."

The screen showed the same set-up, but the differences were fantastic. There was no longer any drill instructor in sight. The same group of Marines ran their course. However, this time Jo was leading again and the rest of them were clustered right behind her in a close formation, instead of the spread-out line of gasping corpses. These recruits were no longer half-dead bodies barely surviving the brutal training. Each of them had his or her assigned spot in the formation. They ran about three times faster than they had in the first vid and showed no signs of fatigue. The sound of their boots hitting the ground was so tight that it sounded like one person running. Their movements were in perfect synch and no one was better or worse than the others.

Jo's strong voice called out a command and the entire group dropped to the ground as one. A few seconds later Jo called out again and the group jumped up to continue running. Next command sent them into a bit of a disarray until they assumed a different formation. The training continued beautifully as Jo kept calling out commands, having effectively replaced the drill instructor, and her squad followed her every word with practiced ease. The most beautiful thing in James' eyes was that Jo was also following her own commands, going through training just like the rest of her team.

The vid ended and once again there was silence. The actors were now completely and utterly speechless.

"This is what I want to see, recruits. Progress. Commander Moreau managed to whip everyone in her squad into shape. None of them quit and they became one body, following orders precisely, with no delay. It's beautiful, isn't it? She didn't lose any recruits in her time. I don't have to be so gracious with you. I'll gladly send home anyone who doesn't shape up. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Staff."

"Disappear," he barked. The unfamiliar order sent the actors running around like cockroaches, trying to find the next hiding spot. They would soon learn how to follow this order correctly. For now, Kiras would be extremely pleased with everything his cameras had caught. Garrus, Gilla and others were probably wrapping up their instruction speeches as well. James turned and walked inside the building, his job for the day done in full. The rest of the day's schedule belonged to the Ns.

In the evening he was back at the station and sitting at The Bar along with all his friends and many recruits, ready to watch the show. Kiras and his team kept a steady stream of everything happening live, which could be accessed easily on the extranet, but several big channels freed a special spot for every day's highlights in their evening program for the larger public to see. The first day's summary was to be presented and the viewer numbers were fantastic by all accounts.

Just like Kiras had predicted, the vids of Jo's boot camp days, which James had shown his new recruits, were a megahit. To do them justice, Kiras focused this day's summary on the human actors. At the end of the hour-long episode he placed a few interviews. Earlier that day Kiras had sat James down for a little talk and now the public could see the edited final result, which appeared more like James' monologue:

 _"Nearly everything in this boot camp is exactly the way it used to be when I first joined the Alliance. The uniforms, the accommodations, the training schedule – it's all standard. Except when I entered the boot camp nobody showed me inspirational vids of Commander Moreau. These guys should be motivated like no other batch of recruits before them. We'll see how well that serves them._

 _I'm here to make Marines out of them. Not actors who can convincingly pretend to be Marines – real Marines. It will be hard for most of them. The best age for a recruit is barely legal. When you're eighteen, your body can be abused day after day and you recover come morning. Many of these actors are middle-aged, some even elderly. They will have a much tougher time keeping up with the physical side of the training._

" _There is also the mental side to be considered. In the military, we do things a certain way because experience shows that it's efficient. All recruits first have to forget how they used to do things, and then learn our way. Even simple things – how to make their beds, how to get dressed, how to brush their teeth. In the military, we have no household mechs doing our stuff for us. We polish our own boots and do our own laundry. We clean our own toilets and wipe away the muddy boot prints when it's raining outside. People have to learn those skills because it's necessary in the field. On every spaceship there are people who cook and clean and do laundry. And when there's an alarm, soldiers have to get up, get dressed and suited up for battle within minutes. We teach all recruits how to do that efficiently. Your life and your entire spaceship can sometimes depend on how fast you can dress. I'm here to teach all recruits how to do that. How to become one with the rest of the crew._

" _A lot of it has to do with discipline and self-discipline. I'm not here to needlessly torture them, even though if it will seem so a lot. I'm here to show them that they have more potential in them than they think they have. They will moan and cuss and complain, but they will constantly have examples in front of them of how far self-discipline can get them: the Ns who will be training them. Every N helping me with this boot camp has accepted the military standard way and keeps to it even after boot camp. We have standard uniforms and beds at the station, too. We have a regulated exercise routine, bone crushing training and nutritious food that often tastes like rubber. But we chose to do it. In the next months you will notice how different the Ns are form the fresh recruits. They are mentally there, they have the self-discipline. They learned to love it and they love to live it. My Ns make me proud. We shall see if my new recruits have it in them to make me proud, too."_

His own interview was followed by another one that James hadn't known about before. With great interest he saw Valentino Mendez, wearing his new recruit uniform with a yellow chevron on his chest. His interview, too, was edited like a monologue, and while nearly everyone else at The Bar began speculating whether or not Mr Mendez looked like Mr Vega, James listened with interest to what the man had to say:

 _"I'm an actor, I've never thought about being a Marine. Hell, when I went to school I was a skinny guy nobody wanted on their team, and the other kids on my apartment block used to call me Teeny Tino. It was only after school, when I started working on my resume, that I hit the gym and gained nearly twenty kilograms of muscle. I'm still an actor, though, I've never held a real gun._

" _When Reapers hit Earth, I was in a studio, filming a series of short vids for colonization recruitment offices. I'm not going to lie, I never did anything heroic during the war. The Reapers never came to Multistars' studio planet. Maybe the population density wasn't enough for them to take notice of us, I don't know. Some of us tried to contact the Alliance, but a lot of us were unfit for duty because of some medical condition or other, and the Alliance decided not to organize a transport for the few who could join. They told us instead to take care of refugees they would send our way. So that's what we did. We guided several dozen of refugee ships to us and helped settle them in hotels Multistars usually provides for guests. Once we had some ships that could transport a larger number of people, we even answered some distress calls in the nearby systems. I'm afraid that's all the war effort I can call my own._

" _I will not pretend to be a hero. The Normandy crew – they are the real heroes. It is humbling to me as an actor and as the citizen of the freshly saved galaxy to have the chance to play one of the most prominent figures in human military today. Staff Commander Vega is a legend in his own right. When Multistars announced that Commander Moreau wanted the actors to go through this training camp, I volunteered, even though they told me I would be needed soon to record some scenes with Marina Kruglova. But I wanted to be here. I realized that I couldn't look at myself in the mirror and say: I'm just an actor, I've never held a real gun before, but I'm playing a prominent military figure. That felt like an insult to Commander Moreau and everything she's done for this galaxy._

" _I came here to become more than an actor. I'm no longer Teeny Tino, but even I don't know what I'm really capable of. Maybe this camp will help me find strength inside me that I didn't have before. Maybe I'll become someone who can_ _ **help**_ _, who can_ _ **do something**_ _in a crisis, not just wait for others to save the world. I'll do my very best not to be kicked out, of course, but that feels like doing the bare minimum. No, I want to do all I can to be among the best. I know that my body will be tested in ways I can't even imagine yet, but I'm sure most of the training will be mental. And there is the added bonus of getting to observe Staff Commander Vega in real life. Not many actors in epic vids get that kind of a chance. Even Ms Kruglova won't get to spend so much time around Commander Moreau!"_

James was surprised by the man's admission of not being active in the war. In light of the hype caused by the upcoming Shepard Epic it had recently become fashionable to overplay one's accomplishments, however small they had been. Obviously, Multistars had given their okay to Valentino Mendez's statement. Were they trying to reach all audiences by introducing a man who hadn't been a hero before but had a chance to become one now? If so, it was a smart move. After the viewers saw what Marine training entailed, Mendez would become quite the hero.


	2. Matt and Dex

**AN: This chapter takes place right after "Chapter 117: Love will find a way" in my main story.**

Time: Year 2188, right after the corresponding chapter in the main story.

Place: The ICA station, Matt's lab.

Characters: Dex and Matt Cyco.

* * *

Matt dragged Dex to his private lab, pulling most of the relevant information about the unexpected project out of him on the way. Dex gave him a summary of what he'd done and assured him that nobody would take his new body away from them. More than anything, Matt had been worried about that.

Once inside the lab Matt locked the door and engaged the full privacy mode. The room was huge and Matt had everything he could possibly need in it to never leave, even though he also had a private apartment on the planet's surface to go home to every night. In this lab a prominent spot was dedicated to an asari-developed capsule for full immersion, in which he spent most of his working hours analyzing data and collecting intel. The brand new, custom-built, sleek and gorgeous capsule was the pinnacle of modern technology and his pride and joy. Around it stood several workbenches and shelves with various tools and unfinished tinker projects. Next to them was a medical table, on which Matt often tweaked his own implants, of which he had over a hundred. The whole setup was a technician's wet dream.

The other half of the big room was taken up by living quarters with a big bed, a decadent bathroom, an entertainment center, a kitchen and a long, narrow pool to do laps in. Last year, when the station was being outfitted, Jo allowed all the instructors to order whatever they wanted and needed. When Matt had showed her the bill for his lab, she'd signed it without even a blink. Dex had teased: "Isn't it nice to have friends in high places?" But Matt thought it was just like Jo. All the instructors got the same treatment. There was one single branch at the Academy that had cost almost nothing to outfit. It was Leadership. When it came to her own classes, Jo was content with chairs, tables and a vid screen. She needed nothing else to teach, she'd said. To Matt, that showed Jo's character to the core. In all the years he'd known her, she would always make sure that her people had everything they could possibly want and need. But for herself she wouldn't bother. To indulge in some extravagance – the thought wouldn't even occur to her. Even the fish tank on the Normandy had been put there without her consent. Personally, Matt liked that in a leader and respected her all the more for it.

Despite having this beautiful private space Matt still preferred to use the common gym and pool. For some reason his charming personality and uncompromising work attitude kept visitors at bay and if he wanted to meet other people, he had to physically leave his cave. During his time being locked up in the bunker on Earth he had learned the value of company. Now that he was free to come and go as he pleased, he made a point to socialize.

He walked every day to the cafeteria to sit with his co-workers and recruits, he spent some evenings at The Bar every week, he took walks around the Atrium among the trees and little fountains, and at the end of the work day he made a point of going home. He owned a condominium suite in one of the tallest towers in the capital city, a beautiful place where he also made a point of not having a work station. He could separate his job and his private space now and he chose to do it. Only someone who had spent about a decade as a prisoner in one way or another could understand the freedom of that choice.

Today Matt didn't think of freedom or choices. The only thing he was aware of was the warm hand in his. Once they were alone Matt whirled around and stopped to look at Dex with all the attention he deserved.

Matt took a good look at what he was now working with. Being rather tall himself at 194cm, he had to look pretty far down to meet the young man's gaze. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, white skin that had never seen the sun, thin body that had never done any work, gentle skin on small, girlish hands. The body had been completely unused in any way. That created a whole lot of questions in Matt's mind.

"Do your clothes chaff?" He asked. "Your shoes must feel like torture devices. Come and sit," he guided Dex to the med table.

"How did you know?!" Dex exclaimed, properly surprised. Once seated, he quickly bent down to unbuckle the boots and to toe them off.

"I've been human a lot longer than you," Matt smiled. He took a chair for himself and brought it closer to sit right in front of Dex. "I know what it's like to wear unfamiliar clothes, and new shoes are always stiff for a few days. I can imagine that the skin on the soles of your feet is as soft as on your face right now, it's bound to be irritated. Don't worry, your feet and your hands will toughen up with time and you'll feel less in them. That's a good thing."

"Matty," Dex began, but Matt interrupted him forcefully:

"Dex, I'll lay down the law now and you can take it or leave it, but I will have it no other way. Trust me, I have your best interest at heart, no matter how harsh this will sound to you. First of all: yes, I know exactly that when you got yourself a body you were thinking of sex with me. And you want to jump right into it, preferably here and now. But I'm telling you: that is not going to happen. This is your first day in a human body, all your senses are different, and since the body is brand new everything feels even more intense to you than it would to a regular human. You can barely handle wearing shoes, you definitely couldn't handle an orgasm, trust me. So rule number one is: no sexual activity until you learn how to handle your body."

"But…" Dex protested, but Matt's serious face made him shut up and nod.

"Second: it takes babies several years to learn their body's functions, sensitivity and capabilities. I assume it'll take you less time, since you already know how to walk and talk… How did you learn that, by the way?"

"Downloaded the program from Link."

"God, who knew that when Jo put Link into her brain, she would create an invaluable source of intel like that?" Matt was still impressed by that particular twist in Jo's adventures. "So you learned from Link how to operate a human body. Did you also learn how to take care of it?"

"Food, sleep, exercise, exposure to elements, medical specifications – yes, I got all that."

"The knowledge. What you lack is the practice. You'll learn soon enough what 'forgetting' means. A little example: your skin is constantly telling you that you're wearing a shirt. But I bet that after only a few hours of being awake you've already forgotten about that fact. If you think about it, you remember, and you feel the shirt against your skin. But if you're not thinking about it, the brain will simply ignore the intel the skin is sending to it, basically forgetting about it. The brain will turn off everything unimportant. And sometimes you get so occupied that other things get forgotten as well. For example: aren't you hungry?"

Dex's eyes widened when he realized that Matt was right. He was terribly hungry. Right on cue his stomach growled.

"Case in point," Matt nodded and got up to go to the mini-kitchen. He brought back a sandwich for Dex. "So back to the second rule: humans have a daily routine. You have to learn how to follow it and take care of your body properly. Among other things it'll include good food and suitable exercise. You desperately need to put some meat on these bones."

"Why," Dex mumbled around the sandwich. "You think I'm too skinny?"

"Man, you look like a skeleton," Matt chuckled. He watched Dex eat with interest. What was it like, experiencing tastes and textures for the first time?

"This sandwich tastes fantastic!" Dex said, as if he'd heard his thoughts. "Incredible. So many flavours at once…"

"Did you eat anything at all since you woke up in this body?"

"Oh, yeah, after I powered up Link took me to have my hair cut and then we stopped at a little café near the docks. I had cereal and a cup of coffee."

"How did you like the coffee?"

"It's an acquired taste," Dex scrunched his nose in distaste. "I haven't acquired it yet."

Matt laughed: "Yeah, lots of people react that way."

"So, you don't like skinny guys?" Dex looked up flirtatiously.

"It doesn't matter what kind of 'guys' I may or may not like. I like you, and this is your body now. That means I like it."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question," Dex insisted. "Are you even remotely attracted to me now? Please, be as brutally honest as you can. I need to know the truth."

Matt bit down on the inside of his lips.

"If I were to be honest, I would prefer someone who looked healthier than a skeleton, yes. It's not your fault and I promise you, with proper care you'll see vast improvement within a week already." Matt said, perfectly aware that he was avoiding the question about his attraction. Dex noticed and gave him a pointed look. "If I were to be brutally honest, though, I would say that you've found a very attractive body, and there is only one concern I have. You look very young. It's not a flaw or a bad thing! It's just… Dex, you look barely legal. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with robbing the cradle like that."

Confusion marked the younger man's face and Dex's voice sounded from the speakers in the ceiling:

"Wow, I never realized what 'jumble of thoughts' actually meant. Organic functions are weird."

"Yeah. But you'll get used to it, I hope," Matt promised.

"So you're saying I'm too young," Dex continued speaking through his new body. "What can I do? Change my appearance somehow? Maybe dress differently or grow a beard…"

"Stop, please. There is nothing you can do about the fact that this body is 18 years old. Don't try. You could just mess things up in your eagerness. Dex, trust me: youth is the only flaw that disappears on its own with time. All I'm saying is that I'll probably be more attracted to you in a decade than I am now."

"Does that mean we won't touch for a decade?!" Dex exclaimed in horror.

"No, that's not what I mean. But that brings me back to the rules I was laying down. Dex, it's not just this body that's very young. The most important reason why I won't touch you yet is because you're not used to human emotions. Your virtual emotions will not help you here. We humans take decades to learn how to recognize and deal with what we feel. Our hormones make us feel wild things sometimes and we all learn how to handle that without becoming dangerous to ourselves or to others. One of the main reasons why it's illegal to seduce a minor is because a child isn't mature enough to cope with the sexual act, and Dex, emotionally you're a newborn baby right now. You may have all the information, but you have no idea how your new body will react to different stimuli. You need to toughen up your spirit as well as your skin before I would consider you a legal adult. I'm doing it for your own good, can you trust me on that?"

"Yes," Dex said instantly. "I always trust you, Matty. And I know you're right: you've been human a lot longer than me, you know what you're talking about."

"I'm glad you understand."

"How long?" Dex sounded pleading now.

"I'm afraid there is no way to tell. I'll give you some advice now which is very difficult to follow, especially for someone like you, who is used to a synthetic's speed. It's one of the hardest things for us, humans, to learn: you must have patience. An organic's life moves at a very different speed than an AI's. We don't measure nanoseconds, but whole minutes, hours, days. We spent half of our lives asleep. Eating and showering takes time. Physically moving our bodies somewhere takes time. And then there is this joy of doing nothing at all, now and then. You're used to a different pace, but if you want to keep this body for many years, you'll have to learn a human's pace, too. And that takes time."

"What you're saying is that nothing is going to happen between us for the foreseeable future," Dex summed up the rules. "Hm. I think I have more intimacy with you as an AI."

"Only for now," Matt grinned. "We need to do this right. But the rewards will be worth it, I promise."

They regarded each other in silence, exploring this new sensation of physically being next to each other.

"Dex, I just told you many things, but there is still one more that I haven't said yet, but I really need to."

"Oh?"

"You surprised the fuck out of me, but I'm very, very glad that you did this. I would probably never have dared to suggest it, myself. I thought about it, but saying it out loud would have sounded like I wanted to change you, turn you into something you're not, or that I was missing something in our relationship… You took that choice away from me and I'm infinitely relieved that you did. And now that you're here, all gorgeous and intriguing, I'm letting you know that you're mine. I'm a jealous lover and I won't let anyone else touch you, not even as an experiment. If you wanted to make experiences with other people, it's too late for that now. I'm never letting you go."

Dex's eyes filled with tears and he lifted one hand to claw at his chest, overcome by all the unfamiliar emotions.

"I…" He swallowed hard and nodded: "I accept."

Matt smiled. He reached out and took Dex's hand into his. Then he slowly and gently ran his fingertips over the soft skin of the young man's lower arm. Dex gasped and shuddered from the intensity of the sensation.

"And that's just one of the easily accessible sensitive spots on your body," Matt grinned at the reaction. Dex swayed, probably imagining how intense other sensations would be.

"Will you show me more?" He whispered and Matt nodded:

"I will show you everything with time."


	3. Check In: Justine

**AN: This chapter happens some time after Chapter 117 "Love will find a way" in the main story.**

Time: Year 2188, summer.

Place: Planet Chrysalis, Justine's house.

Characters: Justine, Josi.

* * *

Once again Justine caught herself smiling for no particular reason. For her, smiling was not a natural occurrence and therefore still noteworthy. She was in the kitchen, busy with a new salarian-based recipe, making food for three. The vid console on the wall was playing the latest outtakes from The Actor Boot Camp. Under the kitchen table, naked on a soft, thick blanket, lay the pink, golden-haired baby. To any outsider Justine would have looked like the most ordinary young mum in the world.

During her first lifetime Justine hadn't had much to smile about. Smirk, maybe, but not smile – not like now. Admittedly, her second life still wasn't all sunshine and roses. She was suffering a severe depression, Jo had said. Such a condition wasn't surprising in someone who not only was born into an adult body, but also had managed to commit suicide not long ago, Jo had said. Justine believed her, because Jo actually had an unofficial psychology degree and knew infinitely more about life than Justine possibly could.

In a few months Justine could celebrate one year of 'being alive for the second time'. It was an awkward anniversary, especially considering that Jo insisted: Justine's real birthday was April, 11th, just like hers. Jo refused to let Justine count her first activation by Maya Brooks as her real birthday. She somehow got it into her head that twin sisters should be born on the same day, and not six months and thirty two years apart. On the one hand not having her own birthday irked Justine a little. On the other hand it warmed her from the inside that Jo insisted so vehemently. It felt like by sharing her birth date Jo was making Justine a part of those 32 years, and not just a recently appeared, unwanted clone. Jo was making her a sister, a real twin sister, perhaps lost, but recently found.

When Justine thought of their last birthday, she smiled again. Jo had been ginormous, two weeks away from giving birth to Josi, and coddled from all sides by everyone around her. She had been sitting on Justine's living room couch, all proper- and calm-like, just like Joker told her to. But at some point she growled, took a small cushion and twisted it so hard that it broke apart.

"I need to punch something. Can you believe it? I haven't punched anyone on over half a year! I'm in withdrawal!"

Justine could only imagine how much Jo was missing her regular sparring sessions with her friends – all forbidden during the pregnancy. Justine and Joker had both refused to let her punch them, so Jo had had to content herself with the cushion.

Oddly enough, Jo hadn't complained about any pent-up aggression ever since Josi was born. Maybe holding the living, breathing baby changed something in a person's physiology. It sure had changed things for Justine, even though she was only the aunt. She looked behind her, to where her tiny niece lay on the blanket on the floor. On the one hand – nothing but an awkward piece of meat. On the other hand Justine could feel the stirring of some deep instinct. This was family. This kid had her DNA, too. Justine may not really have learned how to protect herself, but she knew that she would do anything to protect Josi.

Having the baby in her life also somehow made Justine… ordinary. Normal. Just a regular person. She was an aunt and was babysitting for her sister, while Jo and Joker were running some errands. They would return shortly, they would sit together and eat the dinner Justine was cooking right now. They would laugh, discussing The Actor Boot Camp (The ABC, as people were starting to call it now), and after dinner they would bathe the baby and cuss at each other because the bathroom was way too small for three adults who all wanted to be a part of the process.

The Moreaus had all the baby equipment they needed at home, but Justine's house became the second baby centre lately, complete with diapers, bathing tub, baby shampoo, clothes, toys and stuff Justine had no idea about. She was just proud of herself for knowing how to change the baby. She felt like part of the family.

The road here had been anything but easy. After first coming to Chrysalis with Jo, Justine had had several episodes of complete despair, when she resorted to calling Joker for help. He would come over in the middle of the night, scrape the weeping mess of a sister of law off the closet floor, make her a drink and a cup of tea, and spend a few hours talking to her. Those conversations gave Justine much more wisdom than watching hundreds of vids.

She was feeling much better now – in fact, she was feeling like a normal human being, a part of the world surrounding her. Of course, she still used a sort of a disguise when she left the house, even though her neighbours seemed like the least interested people of all time. This summer Justine took to wearing her hair in a tight bun and wrapping a colourful scarf around her head and neck to hide it. Sunglasses and the mic of a com unit attached to her cheek made sure that her face was mostly obscured, too. She'd lived in this house for months now and still nobody had asked her why she looked like their famous hero.

Justine still had nothing to call life of her own. For that reason she took lots of long aimless walks and drives around the planet, and amused herself watching the circus that was Jo's life. The Shepard Revelations had caused a gigantic stir among the people, but there were small things that amused Justine much more. For example, back in November, during the First Annual Victory Ball, Jo and Joker had met a multibillionaire Logan Westen, Jo's creepiest fan. He'd tried to get to Jo by releasing a vid that implied that Joker was cheating on her. That hadn't worked, and Westen had paid for it with a chunk of his money, but he hadn't left his attempts. When Jo had decided to auction off the dress she'd worn to that ball, Westen was the one to finally get it. It had cost him nearly three million credits. The money went to the Aurora Foundation, but Justine still remembered how disgusted Jo had been at the news. Even now Westen kept sending Jo gifts, party invitations and private messages. Justine had offered to kill Westen, but for some reason Jo had refused the generous offer. Everyone had a cross to bear, she said.

The Moreaus and Justine had become quite a close-knit family, especially with the baby in their midst. But there was one big thing that often occupied Justine's mind, which she didn't feel like talking to her sister about. It was sex. Sure, Jo and Joker were very open-minded about the topic. For God's sake, they watched porn together at home, reenacting their favourite moments. They could talk about sex for hours in very graphic terms, and they could give her lots and lots of pointers, had Justine only asked. But here she found she was different from Jo. She didn't feel comfortable talking about it so openly.

Justine did wonder, though. For all intents and purposes she was still a virgin. During her first lifetime… Things had been too weird then. Maya had neither encouraged nor discouraged the topic, leaving it completely open. To her, there had been much more important things to take care of. Except for Maya, there had been some of the CAT6 guys. All Justine had learned about the opposite sex in that lifetime came from them. She had read profiles of the Normandy crew, but without experience those were simply words. CAT6 guys provided her only point of reference.

When she thought about them now, she realized just how unbelievably lucky she'd been. Lucky to have gotten away from them unscathed. A whole team of them had been around her for several days, supposedly to follow her orders and do her bidding while Maya was infiltrating the Normandy. Justine had learned quickly that those men couldn't work with a normal order. They needed a snarl, spiced up with a death threat and an insult. Justine would do that, thinking that it had to be the normal way between people. Still, despite all her ignorance, she couldn't help a shiver running down her spine whenever she was in a room with them. None of them ever so much as lifted a hand to touch her. No, they had simply… _watched_ her. Two of them had been on drugs the entire time she'd known them. One had done time in prison for theft of the Alliance property. Three more had been dishonorably discharged for cruelty towards war prisoners or for misconduct towards civilians. Justine hadn't given a thought to what that meant back then, but now she knew: their sentencing explained the way they would look at her.

It was animalistic. Like a pack of rabid hyenas, they watched her and their sick imagination showed them what they would do to her if she only showed a sign of weakness. If only it weren't so much bother to get up from the benches and to actually move, they would have been tearing her apart. One of the druggies, Justine was sure, could hardly distinguish between reality and his hazed dreams. He'd been drooling too much for her liking whenever she was around. Thank God CAT6 men had all – without exception – been lazy fuckers, useless in battle and in all other ways. No wonder Jo and her team had cut them down.

In this new lifetime Justine paid much more attention to dynamics between men and women. The easiest example: Jo and Joker.

The way Joker looked at Jo was a world apart from anything CAT6 guys did. Even though half of the time he was clearly undressing her in his mind.

Yet, despite being easily accessible for in-depth study, Jo and Joker were hardly a typical couple. For one, what they had between them was the True Love, forged in countless battles, negotiated in many fights, carried on across two deaths and through the end of the world. Not many people out there could claim something so epic for their own. Another thing was that by some inexplicable miracle Jo and Joker managed to separate their job from their private life quite well. While Jo was Joker's demanding, hardass boss during the day, he was by no means henpecked. In fact, Justine remembered exactly how forceful his personality could be from the first time she'd met him in person, right here in this house. If he told you to do something, your first instinct was to obey.

Therefore, Justine had been looking for other examples. She hardly saw any of her neighbours long enough to mutter a Hello, let alone to study their behavior. She was curious about the one guy Jo had mentioned specifically as someone Justine should leave alone – apparently because he was a good guy and wouldn't deserve to be hurt. Justine had no idea how she could possibly hurt James Vega, but it was something Jo was still adamant about.

Now that The ABC was on every vid channel, James Vega was easy enough to observe. What made him so special to earn Jo's protectiveness? Justine looked at him in the vids and tried to learn whatever she could. Was he good-looking? Fan reviews said: oh, yes, definitely! But he didn't stir any warm feelings inside Justine. She didn't feel like she would like to have sex with him. Still, he was attractive enough, confident, charming – that was the one thing she could tell for sure. Whenever he appeared on the screen, Justine felt like smiling, and she was not the only one.

But James Vega was also very intense. Right under his infectious smile and his honey-like voice hummed the power of personality that couldn't be denied. It was just as well that he was an N7 just like Jo. They had a lot in common. And whatever it was, Justine knew that she was still too fresh and young to take it on. James Vega's power scared her somewhat. She wanted to try her luck with men who were a little… _less_ first. Unfortunately, Jo didn't know anyone who wasn't extraordinary in their own way and Justine had no acquaintances of her own.

For that reason Justine was still in the research phase, not a step closer to getting any first-hand sexual experience. Sometimes she felt like going into a bar, grabbing the first good-looking guy and fucking him, just to see what the big deal was. But that was something Jo had specifically advised her not to do, and in this particular regard Justine chose to heed her sister's words. She could often observe the intimacy of the smallest touches between Joker and Jo. What would be the point going all the way with someone she felt nothing for?

That was a dilemma. Even if she went to a bar to cruise for a guy, what was the guarantee he wouldn't be another CAT6-type? Justine felt that she'd rather stay a virgin forever than touch someone like that. Jo had actually suggested something that had helped her in her own teenage years. She suggested to try it with another woman first. A female would be more in tune with her own gender's wishes, and Justine would perceive a woman as less of a threat. It was an option, but… Justine felt that if she had a bisexual twist in her somewhere, it was considerably smaller than Jo's. She simply didn't feel like having sex with a woman, even an asari.

Joker had advised Justine repeatedly to give herself time and not to try to experience everything at once. He hadn't been talking about sex, but Justine understood what he'd meant, and she knew that he only wished her well. Living on Chrysalis merely perpetuated Justine's problem. Her face was simply too famous. If she went to places where regular people - good people - could be found, she would be recognised. And if she went to places where nobody would care or where nobody would ever expect Commander Moreau to show up - she would most likely find CAT6 kind of people. The obvious choice would be to leave Chrysalis and start her own life somewhere else. However, right now Justine's priority was clearly her new-found family, not sexual activity. Therefore she stayed on the planet, cooked, babysat, read books, watched vids, trained in the gym and sometimes headed out to watch people. It felt incredibly good not to be rushed, to set her own pace and to explore her own likes and desires. Also, it felt very good to have people in her life who knew exactly who she was, knew her history and genuinely cared about her. Justine felt that she could take on the whole world and win, but simply chose not to do so at this point in her life. It was still thrilling to remember that she had a future.


	4. Check In: Michael

**AN: This chapter happens soon after Chapter 117 "Love will find a way" in the main story.**

Time: Year 2188, summer.

Place: The ICA station.

Characters: Michael Portman, recruits

* * *

Michael lay on a bench in the Atrium under a turquoise turian tree, relaxing to the sound of the main fountain. Most of the big, domed room was filled with trees and plants from different planets, essentially making it a small forest with benches and artwork spread here and there. The main fountain consisted of a waterfall cascading around a statue of Lady Justice. Everyone knew that she looked like Jo, but when asked, Jo kept insisting that it wasn't her. The recruits couldn't quite understand this refusal, because nobody would have minded a statue of Jo. But she kept insisting. She wouldn't even tell **him** what the matter was, and aside from her husband, Michael was the one to log the most private hours with her.

He remembered the day he got the invitation to the Academy. It had felt like an insult, to say the least. He had thought that the Academy, a human project funded by the Alliance for many years, would simply be a continuation of his miserable service time. Boy, had he been wrong. Jo had dragged him to this station by the scruff of his neck, but he had to admit: that was the first day of his real freedom.

The Academy had completely blown his mind. No longer humanity's elite project, it now housed instructors and recruits from most of the galaxy's known species. Also, it no longer merely trained fighters and survivors. Physical limitations didn't keep talented people out of the Academy anymore, if they could help with Jo's mission to establish peaceful cooperation.

After nearly a year on the station all the instructors, recruits, medical staff, technicians and civilians had become one big, enthusiastic family. At first Michael thought that he wasn't like them, that he would never feel at home here, that he was different. But after a few months he realized that he wasn't. It came almost as a shock to find out that everyone around was just as passionate as him about the exact same thing: they wanted to go out into the world and help people, protect the innocent. Nearly every recruit had some humanitarian project back home they were working on in their spare time.

What shocked him even more was the ease, with which people interacted. Michael's personal point of deep fascination was watching krogans and salarians develop a rapport. The animosity that had lasted centuries was slowly becoming teasing on the krogan side, which the salarians were learning to take with humour. Everyone was developing a thicker hide when it came to interspecies interaction. Everyone was learning how to accept and tolerate others, how to turn aggression into humour, how to avoid provocations. Michael could see history happen right before his eyes as Jo's ideas infected these people with joy and enthusiasm.

Even right now, after the classes were over, he could hear groups of people in the Atrium, telling stories, laughing, arguing. Back in the Alliance this kind of noise used to annoy him, tire him out. But not here. Listening to their voices made Michael smile.

He was one of the few who had no side projects. One reason for that was that he didn't have a "back home". The colony he was born on had been wiped out by slavers decades ago, and so far he hadn't bothered to acquire any property or to make friends. Michael wasn't sorry about that. He had a plan. Once he left the Academy, he would find more work than he could handle. Right now he planned to learn as much as he could in the shortest time possible. That included excelling in his official specialization – Leadership, but also becoming a good strategist, the most effective killing machine, the most invisible infiltrator, the smoothest talker, the coolest under pressure, the most experienced with biotics, a great pilot, a human lie detector, a psychological profiler, intel analyst, efficient hacker and repairman… His personal wish list went on and on – and he could learn all of it right here on the station.

Michael used to think that he was good before. Ranked Staff Lieutenant in the Alliance, he'd thought he knew what he was doing. Boy, had he been wrong. By dragging him to the station Jo had shown him how much he still had to learn. Aside from the official courses, she and Michael had regular appointments where they mostly did nothing but talk. She told him stories from her own life and explained to him that helping others while being on a self-destruct course was not a way to live long and prosper. It was not only okay, it was **necessary** to have a life outside work, proven by her own bitter experience. She repeatedly encouraged him to open himself to friendships, to a possibility of falling in love.

He could understand the benefits of friendships. There was a deep bond between the members of the Normandy crew. Those people had achieved so much together because they truly cared about each other. Michael had used Jo's words from the first day as a permission to intrude in that tight circle of friends. He joined them at their table in the cafeteria, shared drinks with them at The Bar, spoke to them like they were his buddies and not his instructors – in short, he deliberately pushed his boundaries, thinking that at some point the old, tight team would reject the cocky intruder. That never happened. Perhaps those guys were more accepting of new faces than Michael had realised, but they started inviting him even to private parties, like the baby shower Joker had organised.

Michael still felt like an intruder among them, but… Perhaps he simply never allowed himself to have friends. In his previous life that hadn't been a good idea, and definitely not something he desired. But now he was among people who were exactly like him, and they kept inviting him to be their friend. He knew that it was only the matter of letting go of his old prejudices and allowing other people into his world. But Michael still wasn't sure he really wanted to lower his shields quite that far, because with friendship sometimes came love and that was a disaster.

Jo said that love was a good thing. However, she only ever saw Joker and his love made her world perfect. Michael, meanwhile, also saw Vega. A lovesick puppy who couldn't get rid of the feelings once they took roots inside him, and now forever in agony of seeing the woman he loved happy with another man, unable to leave her side or her employ. In Michael's opinion Vega was a damn fool and a weakling in his own way. He was in a deep mess of his own creation, and Michael could only pity the guy. Love could be unimaginably cruel.

But the other day the most amazing thing happened, and it sent Michael reeling, unsure of anything he used to believe about love anymore. Dex, their resident AI, had installed himself onto a human body in order to be with the man he loved, Matt. Just to think that someone would do such a thing!..

Michael still couldn't wrap his mind around it. The medical experimentation alone involved in the case was fantastic, it was the first official successful case across the whole galaxy. Doctors from many planets were sending in their requests to study Dex in his new body. Dex refused for now, he was too busy building a new life with Matt. And while nobody so far had seen them do more than hold hands, the two men were now constantly seen together, existing in their own private little world of pink clouds and fireworks, a world called Love. That kind of sappiness was beyond Michael, who had to admit: he'd never been in love and couldn't understand. He couldn't believe Dex would go to such lengths for his beloved. He couldn't believe the devotion between Jo and her husband, he could definitely not understand Vega's puppy love and subsequent misery. He had no idea what the deal was.

And yet there was one little thing Jo said niggling at him ever since he saw Dex and Matt come together so spectacularly. During one of their conversations Jo said that Michael only had one facial expression and two moods: indifferent and annoyed. He was surprised to learn that people saw him that way. He never thought himself lacking, but then Jo explained to him: if he didn't feel real emotions, he would never be a good civilian infiltrator, he could never be successful as an undercover agent. People would sense it if his game was merely a game, she said, if he only pretended to care.

That gave him a lot to think about. It was true, he had never been in love. But many people had the same 'problem'. Even Jo in her training days at the Academy rarely showed any human emotions, right? Still, her words struck a nerve inside him. He wanted to work undercover after leaving the Academy, that was his main goal. Not only did he want to be good at it, he also realised not long ago that he wanted to live a long life, instead of heading towards self-destruction the way he had been doing before he met Jo. What if she was right? What if he could only live long and work successfully if he let in emotions and other people?

Jo asked him once: what are you fighting for? His answer was: for every innocent person who needs help. She said: "And I'm fighting for the people I love. If someone attacks them, there will be hell to pay, because of the wave of deep protectiveness inside me at the mere thought. That wave will carry me to great achievements. It already has and it will in the future. Even I can't tell what I'm capable of if my loved ones are threatened. I will not stop, will never waver, never get tired or frustrated. That's what it mean to me to care. Can you say the same?"

Michael couldn't. He was passionate about what he wanted to do, he was even willing to go the extra mile for someone he vowed to save, but… There was a good reason why Jo was called a miracle worker, and he had ended up a nameless human on Tuchanka after the war. Yes, he could see the difference now, after he'd observed what Dex and Matt went through. Saving civilians in danger was Michael's calling and he would do **anything possible** to succeed. Jo would do the **impossible** for someone she loved. She'd done it so many times that Michael would be stupid not to accept her proof. Sense of duty made her sacrifice herself in the war against the Reapers, but it was love that gave her the strength to come back after death. After two deaths, really. Michael could see that if he didn't have that motivation, he would never be as successful as Jo. That was truly something to think about.

And now, lying here under a turian tree, Michael felt that he arrived at a turning point of his life. He had options. Continue as before and become great at what he did? Or accept Jo's advice and unfold his full potential, becoming a legend like Jo herself.

What would it be?

Letting go of old beliefs was never easy. Much harder yet was baring his soul and leaving himself vulnerable. All he had as protection were Jo's assurances that in the end it would make him stronger. In theory, he believed her. Maybe one day he would meet a person who would make him feel like Joker made Jo feel. For now, though, Michael could only choose to trust in Jo and follow her advice with blind faith.

He got up from his bench, swallowing around a large knot in his throat. How about putting the theory to a test? Just to see what would happen? He got up and walked towards voices in the garden.

The very first group he ran into consisted of a geth, two krogans and a quarian girl from Michael's Xenophilia class. She waved at him. Against his habit of silently nodding and walking past, Michael smiled at the girl. Encouraged, she beamed at him and called:

"Hi, Michael! We're talking about this human game, golf. Have you ever played it?"

"No, I haven't," Michael admitted, approaching the group.

"There's a new club planetside," one of the krogans said. "We found their promo vid. They have several locations across Chrysalis, and they brag about different difficulty levels. Do you think golfing is as easy as it looks?"

"No, actually I don't think it's easy at all," Michael said.

"We wanted to go and try it on our next leave. Do you want to come?" The second krogan asked. Michael had to quickly fight down the bile filling his mouth. He'd never been invited to a friendly group activity by other recruits before. Had it been his own fault all this time?

"Sure," he managed to say.

"Good," the geth said melodically. "Your aim is always very precise, Michael Portman. It will be a good challenge to play a new game against you and see if I can become proficient in it quicker than you can."

"Yes, I want to see about that, myself," the quarian pointed at Michael. "I want to test if what everyone says about you is true."

"What's everyone saying about me?" Michael's eyes widened. People were talking about him?

"That you're scarily good at whatever you try. A lot of the guys want to know your secret," she teasingly grinned at him.

"There is no secret!" He protested, not knowing if he should be offended by the insinuation or to laugh along with the others.

"That's what we will find out, armed with golf clubs!" One of the krogans challenged him and Michael gave up: he laughed, bubbling with this unfamiliar feeling of easiness.


End file.
